


Nobody Said It Was Easy

by yoursourwolfisshowing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, I hurt all over right now, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoursourwolfisshowing/pseuds/yoursourwolfisshowing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But tell me you love me, come back and haunt me. Oh and I rush to the start. Running in circles, chasing our tails, coming back as we are. Nobody said it was easy. Oh, it's such a shame for us to part. Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it would be so hard. I'm going back to the start."</p><p> </p><p>Coldplay - The Scientist</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody Said It Was Easy

It was raining. Of course. Stiles let out a deep breath and let his umbrella unsheathe as he climbed out of the Jeep and headed to the graveyard. It was supposed to be sunny, but even the environment has its ways of mourning those it has grown to rely on.

Walking past the graves, Stiles paused at his mother’s. “Hey Mom… it’s me again. I… I’m sorry I haven’t been here in a while. You know when I was little you said I would find love? Well, I fell in love. You always said I deserved the best, and I had the best.” Stiles sniffed once before clearing his throat and carrying on, “I love you. I’ll be back in a bit… my pack needs me.”

Leaving a white rose on her grave, Stiles moved forward to join Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Allison, and surprisingly, Chris Argent. They were all wearing black, whereas Stiles was wearing his token red tie with his suit. They looked to him as he walked up and Isaac dropped his umbrella and pulled him into a hug, tears dripping down his face. Pressing his cheek against Isaac’s, Stiles mumbled, “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Nodding, Isaac tightened his hold on Stiles, asking, “Is it okay if I stay here with you? …I can’t do this alone.”

Stiles rubbed his back, breathing in slowly. “Yeah, it’s okay, pup. C’mon, let’s go get beside Erica and Boyd.” Stiles kept his arm wrapped around Isaac as they passed Chris Argent and Allison who nodded solemnly once and looked towards freshly turned grave. Scott gave him a shoulder thump and when Isaac and him passed by Erica and Boyd, he turned and pulled the three of them into a hug. “I’m sorry guys…”

Erica shook her head furiously and wiped tears from her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It's never your fault, Stiles. Things like this happen.”

Boyd gave Stiles a small smile and gestured to the grave. “I guess it’s time to say goodbye.”

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry, you don't know lovely you are..._

Stiles took a shuddering breath and shook his head. “You guys go first. It’s only right. You're Pack.” Giving the umbrella to Isaac, he said, “You can do it, Pup. I’m here if you need me. I just need a second to get myself together.”

The Pack moved forward, hands linked and crowded around the grave as Stiles stood back behind them as the rain continued to pour. Rain dripped down his face, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to go back to the start where it was easy, where he would get shoved into walls, where they would ignore their feelings.

It wasn’t a romantic confession at all, when they told one another how they felt, but it had happened regardless. Stiles was being chased by a member of the Alpha Pack and _he_ had jumped in and tore the Alpha to pieces before advancing on Stiles who was shaking on the ground. “What did I tell you?! Don’t go messing around with this stuff,” _he_ yelled. 

“Sorry! I wanted to help! I’m not a useless human like you think I am! I can do stuff too!” 

The next minute, Stiles was being kissed harshly and _he_ pulled away and said softly, “I know, Stiles. I know you aren’t weak, but do you think I want you to get hurt?”

Stiles ran. He ran faster than he could ever remember running. He knew that _he_ was hot on his heels, but it didn’t matter. Collapsing by his Jeep, Stiles sobbed into his hands. _He didn't want him._ Right? _He_ couldn't. Who would? He was worthless. He looked up when he felt a hand grip his shoulder. It was _him_. “You’re not worthless. You’re much more than that.” 

“Why?” 

His brows furrowed and _he_ mumbled, “Because you’re my mate and I love you. I love that stupid voice of yours that doesn’t stop and your stupid haircut and how you made a home for my pack and how you’re so insistent on saving me when instead I should be the one saving you.” 

And that was all it took for them to get together. It was simple and looking back on it, their coming together was obvious. 

After that, it all fell into place. They were constantly around each other, bouncing ideas off of each other. There wasn’t a supernatural being in Beacon Hills that they didn’t know about. Stiles could translate and _he_ had personal experiences that helped fill their Beastiary. 

They each had their secrets they hid from one another and maybe that’s what made it so hard in the beginning. It was hard for them to trust, they would chase after one another’s tails fighting to get the secrets out, when it just made it worse in the end. After their first big fight they learned not to do that. It wasn’t worth the pain of being away from your mate. It wasn't worth the pain of the Pack being torn between the two. Nothing was.

Being a born male werewolf wasn’t easy. It meant that the Alpha Females would look to them first as Breeders. Stiles had trouble with that. Afterall, he couldn’t make a child and Stiles knew a large family was wanted by _him_ , but how could that be done? He did the numbers and figures and there was no way the werewolf gene could be carried over into a surrogate. The bloodline would live, but a pure werewolf wouldn't. It hurt both of them knowing what was wanted was impossible, but they got through it. They always did. _He_ said they had a family, a pack, and that was all that he needed at the moment. They didn’t need anything else. Stiles knew he was lying even if he wasn’t a werewolf.

That’s when the lies began. Stiles wasn’t an idiot. He could tell something was going on. He had spent years around werewolves and knew by the way they were acting that something happened. He asked him what was wrong dozens of times and all he got was a brusque reply of, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” How could he not worry about it? 

He had noticed that the betas cringed whenever _he_ walked into the room and then promptly go in for a puppy pile that they never seemed to want to get out of. Watching him disappear every weekend into Scott’s house had been the final straw. He started putting the puzzle together. When they puppy piled, he saw them leech from him and pull his pain away. _He_ had taken quite a liking to Mrs. McCall and continually asked her for help. He overheard the conversations of shots and pills and heard her say that every weekend they were needed. 

Stiles pulled out his Beastiary and confirmed his guesses and confronted him with it. “I know you have cancer. I don’t know what type, but I know you have it.” 

_He_ looked shocked and ashamed all at once and stared at the floor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry. It’s… it’s a work in progress.” 

At that, Stiles punched him and yelled, “When were you going to tell me? When you were dead?! I know what’s going to happen. I read the Beastiary. It can’t be cured.” 

“I planned on telling you.” 

Stiles shook his head and took off through the front door whispering, “No you weren’t.” 

Stiles spent that night at his dad’s. He spent every minute he could that night reading up on cancer in werewolves. It wasn’t curable. It was treatable, but it would eat away at them until their body just gave up. Their body would attack the treatments and while trying to heal the cancer, it would continuously rebuild the cancer cells. 

After a while, _he_ crawled in through the window and sat on the bed. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” 

“You don’t know how… how much it hurts.” 

“I may not know the physical pain of cancer, but believe me, I know how much it hurts and because of that, I thought you would have told me.” 

"Sorry." _He_ kissed him once and laid beside Stiles, laying his hand on Stiles’ thigh. “I wanted you to enjoy your time with me like I wasn’t dying.” 

“How long do you have?” 

“I don’t know. Nobody knows. Not really.” Stiles nodded and brushed his fingers through his hair. “We’ll enjoy it though, yeah? No changes?” 

“No changes.” With that, _he_ fell asleep and Stiles fell asleep shortly after.

That morning, Stiles woke up with blood all over his leg and his mate rapidly getting colder. Pulling out his phone, Stiles shot a text to the pack. _Get over to my old house. It’s time._

Within minutes, the pack was there and surrounded him. They all took their turns pulling the pain and sharing their warmth. All they could do now was wait. Stiles curled up beside him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you.” 

_He_ took a wheezing breath and replied, “I love you too. We’ll see each other again, yeah?” 

Stiles nodded and _he_ slowly closed his eyes. The Pack watched on and slowly gathered around them one by one, mourning. If anyone noticed, it was said that there must have been a wolf pack howling all night in Beacon Hills. 

A hand on his shoulder pulled Stiles out of his thoughts. Looking up, he saw it was Scott. “Sorry.” Scott shook his head and put his hand in Stiles’, slowly leading him to the grave. Stiles was lucky to have Scott. He couldn’t face this alone. …Alone. That’s what he was now. 

Stiles let the tears fall down his face and felt his throat burning and he spoke and ran his hand over the coffin. “I just want you back. I want you here yelling at me and telling me my ideas are stupid. I want you here training the pack. I want to see your smile one last time. I didn't want to lose you so soon. You were supposed to live longer than I was. We were supposed to throw a stupid wedding. We were supposed to go on a road trip soon. But... it's okay. It'll be okay. We’ll see each other again. I know it.” Taking a breath, he nodded at the funeral home director to lower the coffin. 

As it lowered, Stiles broke away from Scott and ran. He had to. It was the right thing to do. He had to run free. The Pack watched Stiles run away and they too ditched their umbrellas and took off after him, half shifting. 

And that’s why, later, when they caught up to Stiles, they found him at the burnt out Hale House. They were back at the start. He was sitting there as they curled around him and joined him with their tears. 


End file.
